


OzGlyn Week

by CarlottaStudios



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2020-07-12 12:37:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19946311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarlottaStudios/pseuds/CarlottaStudios
Summary: These are my written entries for 2018's OzGlyn Week! The entries for day 5 and day 7 are images and thus not available here. I hope you guys enjoy these oneshots about our favourite Beacon professors!





	1. Day 1: Office Hours

If one were to tell you out of the blue that Ozpin and Glynda were a couple, you might rightfully be surprised. In fact, your first reaction might be to say that they didn’t act exactly…couple-y. And, to be fair, they didn’t…at least not in the public eye.

Ozpin and Glynda had been romantically involved for many years now, and in all that time, they were very private about their relationship, rarely showing any obvious displays of affection. Glynda in particular was very touchy about it. It made her uncomfortable to think that any intimacy between her and her partner might be available for others to see. Ozpin didn’t have quite the same shyness as Glynda, but he also didn’t like others prying into business that wasn’t their own. And his relationship with Glynda was certainly no one’s business except theirs. So, he was more than happy to keep their romantic interactions safely away from prying eyes. As far as he was concerned, there was no need for anyone else to know. As long as Glynda knew he loved her and was happy, he could deal with having to inform any number of interested parties that, no, he was not single (and believe me, there were plenty of interested parties).

So, their relationship was, for all intents and purposes, a bit of a secret. Yet that wasn’t to say they showed absolutely no affection to each other throughout the day, in their own ways. A brief exchange of smiles, a lingering hand on the other’s shoulder, an occasional walk in the courtyard when Glynda had no classes to teach; all sorts of small gestures and actions that were subtle enough to go unnoticed by the students (who were really the main reason for all this secrecy) and abundant enough to satiate the all-too-natural desire for contact.

At least, it satiated that desire most of the time. But there were always those days. Those days when your second brain says “enough is enough” and will not stand to be ignored or denied any longer no matter how much you try not to acknowledge it or give in to it. For Ozpin, it had just happened to be one of those days. And, frankly put, it had been agonizing. Throughout the long hours spent in his office, no matter how much he tried to throw himself into his work, his mind kept wandering to Glynda and how much he wished she was at his side. Granted, if she was, it’d be impossible for him to focus on his duties, but at least he wouldn’t care. Over and over, he would catch himself imagining what he’d be doing if Glynda was with him, and then he’d scold himself harshly and fruitlessly attempt once more to be productive. Needless to say, he pretty much failed as his thoughts kept drifting back to his lover. He’d even been distracted when the council called him. About what, he almost couldn’t recall. All he really remembered was a group of people who had no experience teaching hunters how to be hunters snapping at him and trying to tell him how to run his school. In all, the day had been nothing but pure torment. Luckily, he figured as he walked through the courtyard, it was almost over.

Ozpin slowed to a stop and sighed, leaning against a wall as if for support. He probably really shouldn’t be doing this. Glynda’s class wasn’t over yet, so there was a very likely chance her students might spot him if he waited outside. Following that, there would doubtless be a lot of nosy questioning as to why the headmaster was suddenly so interested in their particular class or, for the sharper-eyed among them, in the instructor of said class. And it wouldn’t take too long for those sharper-eyed individuals to put two and two together and then…Then Ozpin didn’t know what would happen. But did he really want to?

‘Probably not.’ he thought with a shudder.

A sound brought him back to the present: the doors to the amphitheatre being opened. He took a few steps back as hunters-in-training started filing out. None seemed to notice him. Perhaps they were all too exhausted by their fighting class, or maybe Oz really was that hard to spot in the shade of a nearby tree, especially with the fading light of evening approaching. Either way, Ozpin wasn’t complaining. He allowed himself to relax as most of the students headed off for their dorms, and as he did he noticed two individuals who were still standing in the doorway only a short walk away. One was, of course, Glynda Goodwitch. She was talking to Ruby Rose (he’d recognize that red cape anywhere by now), as if giving her some advice on battle tactics to consider for their next class…or perhaps reprimanding her for a stunt she pulled during a match (either option wouldn’t surprise him). The girl nodded at Glynda’s words, then with a smile started down the path to the main building. Glynda, meanwhile, headed back inside, leaving the doors partly open behind her. Ozpin smiled. As if he needed more temptation. Briefly looking over his shoulder to be absolutely sure no one was watching or waiting to spring at him, he quickly closed the distance remaining between him and those doors and entered. The slight creak immediately caught Glynda’s attention and she turned her head to the sound, frowning, but then gasped as she saw who it was.

“O-Oz?” she blinked, the nickname uttered almost unconsciously in her surprise.

Ozpin paused in his stride, his senses returning to him. He’d been so focussed on getting to see her as soon as possible that it actually slipped his mind that she wasn’t expecting him. Glynda frowned, concerned, as he gathered his wits. Taking a step back, he grinned, somewhat abashed, at her.

“Am I intruding?” he asked, hoping his voice sounded light.

The vice-headmistress blinked, but then smiled with amusement.

“In truth, a little.” she said, setting down the scroll she’d been holding with the day’s battle results. “But I forgive you.”

“How kind of you.” said the headmaster, half teasingly, half genuinely.

He had, after all, quite rudely entered the room without her consent or even the knowledge that he was coming. A show of impudence like that could’ve easily warranted being tossed out of the room by her powerful semblance. Luckily for Ozpin, Glynda was too fond of him to do that. Or maybe he was just lucky enough to have caught her in a good mood, for she didn’t seem at all upset by his lack of manners. In fact, the way she was smiling at him now, almost in anticipation, he’d say she was just as happy about his arrival as he himself was. Taking his chances, he strode purposefully towards her and kissed her, closing at last the maddening gap between them. She hummed against his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close. Ozpin sighed contentedly. Brother gods, he’d missed this.

“How was your meeting with the council?” Glynda asked as she caught her breath when they at last pulled apart. “Were they more understanding this time?”

“I don’t want to talk about the council right now.” Ozpin answered, kissing her again.

“Then what do you want to talk about?” she murmured again his lips, then pulling away again so he could see her frown of disapproval. “How risky it is for you to be here?”

Ozpin raised an eyebrow.

“Says the woman who’s still kissing me.” he argued teasingly.

“I can always stop.” she said, glaring warningly at Ozpin who smiled apologetically.

After a moment, her frown lightened and she smiled, then kissed him again, more deeply than before, earning a soft moan of pleasure from Ozpin.

“I really needed to see you.” he whispered.

“I can tell.” she smiled, relaxing against him as he left little kisses on the side of her face and neck. “And I’d be lying if I said I’m not extremely glad you’re here.”


	2. Day 2: Coffee

The first time Glynda found Ozpin asleep at his desk after working late the whole of the previous night, she’d been extremely gentle in waking him. He was sprawled across the glass surface, his head resting on his folded arms, looking like an exhausted angel in the early morning, with his tousled silver hair, the dark circles under his eyes and the light streaming in through the windows behind him. Glynda had been a bit upset when she’d woken up alone in their shared bed, but she softened at the sight of the sleeping headmaster. She leaned close to him and pressed light kisses on his face, stroking his hair and brushing it out of his eyes.

“Ozpin,” she whispered as he stirred in his sleep, “Oz, darling, wake up.”

She kissed him on his forehead and, slowly, Ozpin blinked open his eyes. He looked up at her with the mild confusion of the recently-woken.

“Glynda?” he murmured, then sat up.

When he opened his eyes again, he seemed to finally notice where he was and sighed, rubbing at his temples.

“I fell asleep at my desk, didn’t I?” he asked, his question trailing off into a yawn which he tried and failed to contain.

“You did. I’m guessing over your work.” Glynda nodded, smiling fondly at him and offering him a hand as he stood. “Now let’s get you some coffee before classes start.”

He groaned at the mention of the beverage. He’d never been particularly fond of its taste and had already drunken enough of it as a student to last him a lifetime, at least in his opinion. Glynda heard his expression of distaste and smirked in amusement.

“A necessary evil, Ozpin. If it’ll help you wake up, you’ll just have to bear with it.”

He looked over at her suspiciously.

“Are you considering this payback for not accompanying you to bed last night?”

She shrugged, a rare display of less-than-absolutely-professional behaviour that few had a chance to witness in Glynda Goodwitch.

“I might be.” she admitted.

“Then I promise not to fall asleep at my desk again.” he said.

…

Ozpin had sincerely meant it when he made that promise. But alas, the universe seemed to love conspiring against him. For several days, he ended up falling asleep in his office, neglecting to put a stop to his work and actually go to bed. Glynda put up with this as patiently as she could, but it was really starting to bother her. A few weeks after the headmaster’s first sleepless night of work, she awoke to find, once again, that her partner hadn’t joined her the night before. As he slumbered peacefully in his chair, Glynda left the room and returned barely a few minutes later with a tray bearing a coffee pot and two mugs. She set it down on Ozpin’s desk and gently shook the headmaster’s shoulder. He frowned and muttered something in his sleep about the council before opening his eyes and spotting his vice-headmistress.

“Good morning,” he said, smiling sleepily up at her.

Glynda couldn’t help but smile back, though there was still a trace of disappointment in her eyes.

“Good morning,” she greeted in return, offering him his mug, which he accepted with only a brief frown as he realized what the liquid inside was.

After they’d both taken a few sips of the caffeinated brew, she said:

“You did it again.”

“I know.” he sighed sorrowfully. “I’m sorry, Glyn.”

“I forgive you.” she said, then added, “This time. Just,” she looked over at him with an almost pleading expression, “please try not to again.”

Ozpin shook his head sadly.

“After this, I can’t exactly make any promises.”

Glynda’s exhale made her disappointment clear. She knew perfectly well that he was right and she always appreciated his honesty, but that didn’t make her wake-ups any less lonely. Ozpin saw the sad cloud settling on her features and reached up to turn her face to his. He smiled at her as reassuringly as he could.

“But I will try my best.” he said sincerely.

…

Unfortunately, it seemed that Ozpin’s best wasn’t good enough, at least when it came to thwarting his bad habit of working late. Glynda frowned as the elevator doors opened and she re-entered the office. Marching toward his desk, she set down the coffee tray she was carrying with enough force to lightly rattle the ceramic pot and mugs on the silver dish. Ozpin shifted around slightly, almost awoken by the sound. Before he could fully settle back into slumber, Glynda removed Reign from where it was attached to her boot and extended it with a flick of her wrist. Then she brought it down with a loud SMACK on the desk. Ozpin jumped in his seat and sat up abruptly, startled into wakefulness.

“Good morning.” said Glynda, though her tone didn’t quite match the warmth of the greeting.

She handed Ozpin his mug, already filled with coffee. Wordlessly, Ozpin accepted it and took a sip. He winced internally as the bitter taste washed over his tongue. Now he knew just how annoyed Glynda was (as if the wake-up method hadn’t been enough of a hint): she’d made his coffee black, with no cream or sugar to make it more bearable for him. However, he was smart enough to know that if he did complain, it would be as good as a death wish. He looked up at Glynda and opened his mouth to beg for her forgiveness.

“Before you apologize,” she cut him off before he even uttered a word, “I just want to let you know that this is your last chance, Oz.”

Ozpin nodded. Yet despite still being visibly nervous, inwardly, he felt relieved. This might seem a strange feeling to have at the moment, being as he was still pinned under Glynda’s imperious bright green gaze, but Ozpin had known Glynda long enough to know when she was truly furious. In this case, her tone wasn’t nearly as sharp as he was sure it’d be, not to mention she still used her pet name for him. So, despite appearances, he still had a chance of walking out of this office completely unscathed.

“I mean it. If you do this one more time,” Glynda continued, her fingers tightening just a fraction around the handle of her weapon, “I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

Ozpin swallowed audibly as he noticed her grip on the crop. Suddenly his fortunes didn’t look quite as good as he’d thought only a second ago.

“What kind of actions?” he asked cautiously.

Glynda’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.

“Actions that will convey every bit of anger I’ve been building up these past few months.” she said, her voice as cold as winter wind.

…

And there was plenty of anger to be had when, despite everything from Glynda’s threats to his own better judgement, Ozpin spent the following night working. Glynda didn’t even bother checking the office when her eyes snapped open to find, for the umpteenth time, that the bed was empty save for her. She didn’t waste any time venting out her aggression. She simply dressed, slammed open the door and stormed past the desk and to the elevator. When she returned later, she carried no tray, just a steaming mug of coffee. The liquid was pitch-black and just cool enough so that it wouldn’t permanently damage your mouth if you drank it. Now in front of the desk, Glynda stared down at the man collapsed upon it like a falcon that had spotted a helpless rabbit.

You really had to feel sorry for Ozpin at that moment, as Glynda inhaled deeply, held out the mug, then upturned it, dumping its contents right onto the sleeping headmaster. A moment later, a howl of pain rang throughout the halls of Beacon Academy, thoroughly startling the entire population therein.

…

“I did warn you.” said Glynda later as she walked through the courtyard beside him.

There were a few lingering students around, and nearly all them turned their heads towards the two professors as they passed by. Ozpin in particular caught their attention. He was holding a small ice packet on the back of his head, the shadows under his eyes were so pronounced they almost looked like bruises, his hair was rumpled and slightly damp, his green scarf had a stain on it that hadn’t been there the previous day and, most bizarrely, he seemed to be followed everywhere by the faint scent of caffeine.

“I never said you didn’t.” Ozpin muttered testily.

His face was set in a deep frown, so different than his usual calm expression. But then, this wasn’t surprising given the brutality of his wake-up call.

“You said you didn’t expect me to go that far.” Glynda pointed out, scowling at the students as they stared, causing them slink away.

“I meant that I didn’t expect you to go so far as to actually pour burning hot coffee on the back of my head.” Ozpin clarified. “I did anticipate some form of bodily harm. Just not that form in particular.”

He shifted the ice pack on his head to the back of his neck and winced as his warm skin came into contact with the freezing cold bag. Glynda’s eyes flicked downwards. Now that she’d had the chance to calm down, she thought she’d reacted a bit too harshly back in Ozpin’s office. The man was already suffering from sleep-deprivation, self-inflicted though it may be, and punishing him for it wasn’t exactly helping the situation. It seemed cruel to only add to his trouble. Besides, despite her aggravation with his nightly behaviour, she still loved him and never truly wished to hurt him.

“I’m sorry.” she said in a low voice. “I shouldn’t have done it.”

Ozpin blinked in surprise at hearing her utter the apology. His expression softened and his voice, when he spoke, was tired but tender and comforting.

“You were angry, Glynda. I don’t blame you for acting on it.”

“More frustrated than angry, honestly.” Glynda admitted.

Ozpin raised an eyebrow.

“You nearly burned the back of my head out of frustration?” he asked, his mouth quirking up in a small smirk, much to Glynda’s relief.

“A lot of pent-up frustration that had to released.” she said, fighting back the urge to smile herself.

“A very painful release.” Ozpin added under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear.

“Oh, stop it!” she snapped, though she couldn’t keep her laughter out of her voice, which greatly lessened the reprimand. “You’re making me feel guilty enough.”

Ozpin chuckled, then yawned deeply, barely covering his mouth in time.

“Pardon me.” he murmured.

Glynda nodded, all of the mirth fading from her eyes. After a moment of silence, she spoke again:

“You know what I think?”

Ozpin looked over at her, intrigued.

“Do tell.”

“I think you need some motivation to get to bed.” said Glynda.

At her words, Ozpin’s expression shifted suddenly from curiosity to fear.

“Not more coffee please.” he begged, his eyes wide with an emotion never before associated with Ozpin: absolute terror.

Glynda chuckled.

“No,” she said reassuringly, brushing a hand on his shoulder. “I was thinking something different.”

…

Glynda’s “motivation” proved effective. That night, for the first time in weeks, Ozpin slept, in bed, snuggled up to his partner, for a solid 8 hours. He did end up waking early the following morning, but it was by his own volition. And that alone was a blessing and a luxury to the man who’d gotten used to being woken up by a less-than-pleased Glynda Goodwitch. Speaking of Glynda, he noticed that she wasn’t in bed with him. He frowned, disappointed, and then suddenly chuckled to himself. Now he knew how she must’ve felt every morning. He stretched like a contended cat and reached over to the bedside table for his glasses. As he did, he noticed that there were two other objects on the table: a folded piece of paper and his mug. He unfolded the paper, a note from Glynda as it turned out, and read:

‘Good morning Oz, woke up early so I figured I’d get you a drink to help you wake up. Be back with breakfast soon. Love, Glyn’

Ozpin smiled at the note, then picked up the mug and cautiously took a sip. His smile widened. It was his old favourite: hot chocolate, sweet, satisfying, and most importantly, not coffee.


	3. Day 3: Formal Wear

Ozpin hadn’t worn a bowtie since he danced as a student at Beacon, so it was only natural that he was out of practice when it came to tying one. Yet, after several minutes of trial and error, he managed to tie it correctly so that it stood like a small butterfly with rectangular wings made of black silk. Despite his success, Ozpin frowned at his reflection.

“I really don’t see why I simply can’t go in my regular attire.” he said, just loud enough for Glynda to hear from the bathroom.

“This is supposed to be a formal dinner party,” she answered, her voice slightly muffled by the partly closed door, “ergo, you must dress formally.”

Ozpin raised an eyebrow at the mirror, even though Glynda couldn’t see it.

‘As if a suit and buttoned vest could ever be considered informal.’ he told himself.

He didn’t tell himself this out loud, though. He knew Glynda would hear him if he did and he had no desire to meet the business end of Reign earlier than promised. So instead of a sarcastic remark, he settled with an attempt at negotiation.

“May I at least bring my scarf?” he asked, self-consciously putting a hand on his neck as he spoke. “I feel odd not wearing it in public.”

In truth, he felt a little naked without it. The slight pressure and warmth around his neck that came from wearing it had become strangely comforting to the headmaster, like a security blanket. Already he missed its familiar presence. Not to mention that if there was a single chilly draft at that dinner party, he’d bet his cane that it was going to bother him a hell lot more than it might’ve if he’d had his scarf.

“You’ll be wearing a tuxedo with a bowtie.” said Glynda. “Wearing your scarf on top of it would be a complete faux-pas.”

Ozpin smirked with amusement at the slightly open bathroom door.

“Since when do you care if I make a fool of myself?”

“I always care if someone affiliated with me makes a fool of themselves. Especially you.” she emphasized. “It just so happens that most of the time, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Ozpin chuckled and admitted to himself that it was a fair argument. Not air-tight, but not one he believed was worth debating over with his iron-willed partner.

“Tonight, on the other hand, I can and will make sure you are as dignified as you can possibly be.” the partner in question added, to which Ozpin smiled.

Her commanding tone made it perfectly clear that she would brook no argument. It was practically an order, though an indirect one. It didn’t bother him though. There was only one person he didn’t mind taking orders from, and that person was Glynda Goodwitch. Sighing with regret at his scarf, laying discarded on the dresser, he put on his jacket, emerald-green and soft and shiny as silk over a white shirt. As he examined his reflection, Glynda stepped out of the bathroom, where she herself had been getting changed. Ozpin turned to face her and felt his eyes widen and his mouth drop slightly open as he saw her. Rather than its usual bun, her hair was tied in a loose ponytail so that the pale gold strands tumbled down around her shoulders like a waterfall. She was wearing a dark purple evening dress with lace climbing up to her neck and down her arms and a long A-line skirt of softly-rustling fabric. Glynda smiled, almost shyly, as he stared at her.

“Besides, it’s not everyday we get to dress up a little.” she said, her cheeks turning the faintest shade of delicate pink.

Ozpin composed himself and smiled back at her.

“A shame.” he said with playful sorrow. “You do look particularly radiant in a dress.”

She grinned, lightly poking him on the nose.

“Flatterer,” she scolded, her voice tinkling with musical laughter.

“It’s not flattery if it’s sincere.” he grinned back.

“Touché.” she murmured appreciatively, leaning forward to kiss him.

Ozpin hummed pleasantly against her lips, letting his eyes slip closed. She pulled away slowly, fondly brushing some of his silver hair away from his face. Then her expression changed to a triumphant smirk.

“Of course, no amount of complimenting or kissing is going to change my mind. You are wearing this suit.” she said, then, punctuating each word with a poke on his chest: “Sans. Scarf.”

Ozpin sighed, defeated. He really should’ve known better than to think buttering her up would get her to change her mind. Ah well; it was still worth the try.

“Alright,” he conceded, “formal wear it is.”

Glynda smiled, her eyes glowing with victory, and put her arm in his, leading them both out of the room.


	4. Day 4: Free Day

He was tired, but content when he entered the bedroom he shared with Glynda Goodwitch. Another day was over and Ozpin was looking forward to spending the evening relaxing with the woman he loved. But his pleasant train of thought was interrupted when he saw Glynda hurriedly stand from where she’d been seated on the bed and thrust something inside the closet. Unfortunately, Ozpin couldn’t tell what the something was. Glynda had moved too fast for him to get a proper look. There was only a slight swirl of fabric and the glint of a hangar before the doors were shut on the mysterious object. Glynda then turned to face him, wearing a placid expression, holding her hands behind her back. Despite her apparent calm, though, there was nervousness in her eyes, like that of a guilty child caught with a toy they shouldn’t have been playing with. Ozpin raised an eyebrow at his vice-headmistress.

“What was that?” he asked.

He wasn’t going to play the fool, not even for her. Not to mention that disguising that fact wouldn’t get him any closer to finding out what she’d rushed so desperately to conceal. Glynda, however, seemed ignorant of what he meant. Or at least she tried to appear ignorant, but her pretense was not a convincing one. Glynda was anything but ignorant, so it was next to impossible for her to pull off the look.

“Nothing.” she said, her cheeks turning a delicate pink.

Ozpin smirked.

“You’re hiding something from me.”

“No. I’m not hiding anything.” Glynda said, with a tad more force this time.

The rose in her face deepened in colour. This only furthered Ozpin’s certainty.

“Your blush says otherwise.” he said.

The woman blinked, surprise breaking through her composure.

“What?”

“Didn’t you know?”

He set his cane down and approached her. As Glynda didn’t move away, he ended up trapping her between himself and the closet. He smiled.

“You blush whenever you lie, Glyn.” he explained. “It gives you away every time.”

He had been with Glynda Goodwitch long enough to know her tells, perhaps even better than she did, for she seemed rather stunned at his words. Realizing that she was staring slightly open-mouthed at him, she looked away, blushing even harder, though this time it had nothing to do with deceit.

“Damn,” she muttered under her breath.

Ozpin’s gaze softened. As much as secretly enjoyed seeing Glynda embarrassed, the enjoyment was always tempered somewhat by his equally strong desire to make her happy. So, he tilted her chin up and pressed his lips to hers, in hopes that a kiss would cheer her up and perhaps make her feel less self-conscious. It seemed to have the desires effect as Glynda sighed sweetly and relaxed, resting her hands on Ozpin’s chest.

“So,” he whispered as their mouths parted, “what are you hiding in there?” he asked, nodding towards the closet.

Glynda’s gaze averted from his, but she didn’t step away from him.

“It’s really nothing important.” she said half-heartedly, her cheeks pinkening.

But Ozpin wasn’t giving up.

“I wasn’t able to get a good look at it, but I think it was a dress of sorts?” he guessed, his tone conversational and slightly impish.

It seemed he was starting to wear Glynda down, for instead of denying again, she murmured:

“It might’ve been…”

Then she said, more loudly:

“But it doesn’t matter.”

“I think it does.” said Ozpin, no longer playfully.

Glynda exhaled a tiny whistling breath through her nose.

“You won’t understand…”

“You don’t know that, Glyn-” Ozpin tried to say, but she cut him off.

“It’s-” she stopped, as if searching for what to say.

After a moment, she sighed in defeat. Ozpin waited for her to speak, expecting her to say “It’s embarrassing” or something to the degree and already setting up a few rebuttals in his mind.

“It’s a wedding dress.” said Glynda.

Ozpin’s eyes went wide. Of all the things she could say, that was not one he was expecting. For one thing, he’d fully expected her to resist a little longer. It wasn’t like Glynda to not put up a fight, though he had to admit he tended to be her one exception in that department and more. And for another…

“A wedding dress?” he repeated, still in complete shock.

She nodded. For a few seconds, Ozpin was completely speechless. Possible responses were flying around his head like a tornado, ranging from questions to attempts at humour to shocked nonsensical gibberish, but he couldn’t possibly fathom which one to use in this situation (well, okay, he did know not to go for gibberish). Finally, after what must’ve seemed an eternity to Glynda, he said:

“I don’t recall having proposed.”

It wasn’t, he realized immediately, the best thing he could’ve said, but it wasn’t the worst either as it did make Glynda laugh.

“No, Oz, it’s not like that.” she said, her voice a strange mix of slightly hysterical giggling and frustration (either at him or at herself, Ozpin couldn’t tell (both perhaps?)). “Not exactly. It’s…Oh gods, I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

She pulled away from him and sat on the bed with her head in her hands. Ozpin was immediately at her side, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“You’re right, I don’t.” he said gently. “But, to be fair, I don’t think anyone would understand if their sweetheart, to whom they are not engaged, suddenly revealed that they have a wedding dress.”

His soothing tone and use of the term of endearment seemed to coax her somewhat out of her mortification, for her let her hands rest on her lap. He sat beside her and, when she still didn’t look at him, he took her hand.

“Glynda,” Ozpin implored, and this time she did, finally, meet his eyes. “We already keep a lot of secrets from the world at large. I don’t want there to be any between us.”

She nodded. Admittedly, she did agree with him. Honesty and forthcoming had always been a pillar of their relationship, and it seemed foolish to compromise that. Ozpin leaned forward, touching his forehead to Glynda’s.

“Could you please tell me?” he begged softly.

Glyn hesitated.

“It’s rather silly.” she said.

Ozpin was ready for that.

“I won’t laugh if you don’t want me to.” he assured her.

“And very sentimental.” she added.

He grinned.

“I love sentimentality.”

At that, Glynda couldn’t help but smile back.

“Alright,” she muttered, then sighed, “Alright, I’ll tell you.”

Ozpin smiled gratefully and put an arm around Glynda’s shoulders. As she started speaking, the woman rested her head, almost unconsciously, on his shoulder:

“Peach took me shopping with her today. We came across a wedding boutique and she wanted to try on some of the dresses, I guess for the fun of it. Anyways, I was picking some out for her to try and then…” she swallowed hard. “I saw one particular dress.”

“The dress that happens to be in the closet?” Ozpin guessed.

Glynda nodded.

“Yes.”

She trailed off into silence. Ozpin regarded her carefully, his curiosity only growing. Glynda was not one to be fascinated with clothing, so to hear her speak this way about a dress certainly intrigued him.

“I’m guessing there was something special about it.”

Glynda’s gaze flicked downwards, but not quickly enough for Ozpin not to notice her lips stretch into a shy smile.

“You could say that.” she said, then continued her explanation. “I suppose Peach could tell that I liked it, because she suggested try it on. After I did, she…” at this, she put a hand over her mouth, barely in time to stifle a small giggle, “she said I had to take it. I tried to tell her it was a ridiculous idea. After all, as you said, we’re not even engaged. But she insisted and…”

Glynda’s green eyes lifted to meet Ozpin’s. Ozpin was surprised at the softness he saw in them.

“And I admit I did want to keep it.” she finished.

Ozpin’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he regarded Glynda with open curiosity.

“Why is that?” he asked.

It was the obvious question to be posed. But this time, there was no obvious answer, so far as Ozpin could see. Yet the uncertainty didn’t bother him. He felt assured that Glynda would make him understand. Glynda waited a heartbeat before she answered, blushing prettily with timidity before she spoke:

“Because that’s the dress I always envisioned myself wearing if we ever got married.”

Ozpin blinked, surprised for what must’ve been at least the 5th time in as many minutes.

“Come again?” he asked.

“Well, not that dress exactly, but it looks a lot like the dress my mother wore on her wedding.” Glynda explained. “You see, when I was little, I thought my mother’s wedding dress was the most beautiful dress in the world, so I wanted to wear a dress exactly like it when I got married. That dress may not be exactly like my mother’s, but it’s close enough. So, if we had a wedding, that’s the dress I’d want to wear.”

Ozpin smiled quietly at Glynda as she spoke. After a moment, during which she waited expectantly for him to answer, he said, almost dreamily:

“You envisioned us getting married?”

She raised a brow at him.

“And you haven’t?” she asked challengingly.

“I never said that.” Ozpin shook his head, grinning.

They shared a chuckle at his words, and Glynda kissed him fondly on the nose, then his cheeks and then finally settling one on his lips. Ozpin could feel his smile widen at her gentle touches, but it shrank a bit as he asked:

“Why didn’t you want to tell me about all this?”

Glynda frowned, her expression sorrowing.

“Because it would make you feel bad, and I don’t want to do that.” she said guiltily.

“Why would it make me feel bad to know you had a wedding dress?” Ozpin asked, although he believed he already knew the answer, or at least part of it.

Glynda closed her eyes, as if bracing herself for the words she was about to say. When she opened them again, she said, her voice lined with resignation:

“Because we’re not getting married, Oz. We don’t have the time to plan a wedding, and there are much greater things to be concerned about then our marital status.”

Ozpin nodded, his head bowed. That was exactly what he himself had concluded. Still, hearing it said out loud made his heart throb no less painfully. Glynda saw the hurt in his eyes and put a hand on his cheek, turning his face to her.

“But it’s alright.” she said, smiling, no, practically beaming at him.

Ozpin blinked, shocked into silence for the second time that evening. Only this time, he hadn’t even an inkling of what to say, or even if he could form the words. Yet that didn’t seem to matter as Glynda brushed lightly at his bangs and said, her voice soft and sincere and comforting:

“In the end, it doesn’t matter if we’re married or not, Ozpin. I love you. I love you and I’m with you and that won’t change until the end of our days. Not being married isn’t going to undo that. I do want to marry you and I would love to be your wife, but I don’t need to be in order to be at your side. What we have doesn’t have to be proven by a marriage. So, when all is said and done, we don’t need to get married, and that’s alright with me.”

Ozpin stared deep into Glynda’s eyes. There was nothing but truth in her words; not a single telltale blush coloured her face. Yet he was still quiet, as if still trying to process what she’d said. After a long moment though, he found his voice:

“But you would like to get married?”

It was Glynda’s turn to blink in surprise.

“Oz-” she tried to reiterate her point, but Ozpin gently insisted.

“You would?”

She sighed and admitted, fully aware that he would know a lie from her if he heard it:

“Yes, I would, but-”

“Then we will.” Ozpin said simply, startling Glynda.

Before she could even think of what to say, he clasped her hands between his.

“One day, Glynda.” he said earnestly. “Sometime, hopefully soon, there will be day without responsibilities, without duties and without the world weighing on our shoulders, just for a little while. And when that day comes,” he smiled, his brown eyes warm and loving, “I’m going to marry you. And you’ll be wearing that dress when I do.” he added in a soft murmur.

Glynda stared at him. She said nothing, but that was because her breath had been virtually stolen away by his profession. All the while Ozpin’s smile never wavered.

“Is that a proposal, Ozpin?” she finally asked, smiling back at him.

His brown eyes twinkled with mirth.

“I would never embarrass you with such a spur-of-the-moment decision.” he assured her. “When I propose to you, it will be the result of many days’ careful planning to sweep you off your feet.”

Glynda’s cheeks flushed, which only widened Ozpin’s grin. She remedied that by kissing him, deeply and passionately, pulling him toward her with enough force so they were lying down on the bed when they pulled away for breath.

“I love you.” she whispered, then after only a heartbeat’s hesitation. “And I can’t wait to marry you.”

Ozpin’s face brightened as she said those words.

“The feeling is absolutely mutual.” he answered in his own whisper, before she kissed him again.

Oh yes, they would have a day, if he had any say in it. And even though it was probably some time away, he couldn’t wait for it.


	5. Day 6: Home

(OzGlyn Family AU)

The night was blissfully quiet, save for a single ship flying over the countryside of Vale. It was a relatively small, if a bit bulky, craft from Atlas whose only passengers were the pilot and, in the cargo hold amongst the crates of dust, two hunters, trying their best to keep from falling asleep despite their exhaustion. The hunters in question were professor Ozpin, headmaster of Beacon Academy, and his wife and vice-headmistress, Glynda Goodwitch. At the moment, however, the proud and strong huntsman and huntress who’d help put down the leader of the grimm and who remained two of the greatest warriors yet living didn’t quite look the part. Then again, if you had just completed a mission in the northern outskirts of Atlas to track and eliminate the laboratories of a certain criminal scientist, ending with an arduous battle that lasted the better part of a day, you wouldn’t look your best either.

It had taken them two whole weeks to complete the mission, but in the end, it felt at least somewhat worth it. Salem’s last followers were being taken away, Dr. Watts’ dangerous experiments had been destroyed and there was one less distasteful person holding influence in the kingdom of Atlas. Ozpin and Glynda were not blind to these victories, far from it. But two weeks was a long time to be away from Vale, from home and hearth and family, and they wouldn’t be at ease until they had returned to Beacon. They were so impatient to get back that they declined General Ironwood’s offer to escort them in his ship, choosing instead to hire a pilot, with a cargo airship bound for their kingdom anyway, to fly them home that very night. One generous amount of lien later and they collapsed on the floor of their transport as it took off. And when I say “collapsed”, I’m not exaggerating. Both Ozpin and Glynda had sustained many injuries in the fight and had stayed in Atlas just long enough for them to be adequately patched up. A decision that Glynda was starting to second-guess. She looked down at her right arm, bound in a sling and still faintly throbbing with the memory of Hazel Reinart’s grip nearly snapping the bones in half. She wouldn’t be fixing anything with her semblance any time soon. She frowned, feeling the bandages covering almost half of her face tighten on her skin as she did. She probably wouldn’t be doing anything any time soon. Nothing useful at least. On the one hand, it irritated her; she hated feeling so…helpless like this. On the other hand, she was so spent of energy that the promise of not having to do anything for a short while was a bit of a relief.

She looked over at her husband. His eyes were closed, but he wasn’t sleeping. She could tell by the tightness in his jaw and slight flare in his nostrils every time he breathed, as if he were in pain. Given their condition, it was very likely. For her part, her broken rib was still resonating with mild agony in her torso. The field medics had strapped several bags of ice over it, but it did little to ease her suffering. Glynda, however, refused to say a word about it. Instead, she moved her free hand over to Ozpin’s and he grasped it tightly in silent thanks.

“We should probably spend the night in the infirmary when we get there.” she said out loud, her voice hoarse.

Ozpin let out the smallest of groans at her words. She could sympathize all too well with his displeasure. After two weeks sleeping on tiny cots out in the frozen wilderness, a night in their own room and in their own bed was long overdue. But they couldn’t just neglect their wounds, much as they had managed to ignore them until now (for the most part at least, her right shoulder was still stinging). They needed proper treatment if they were ever going to recover in a feasible amount of time and the sooner said treatment started, the better.

“You should at least have your leg looked over.” the huntress added, glancing at Ozpin’s left leg.

It had been lacerated by Tyrian Callows’ wrist blades, leaving a long bloody line tracing up from just above his ankle almost to the back of his knee.

“It was already looked over.” he said, nodding at the bandages concealing the gash.

‘Barely,’ Glynda thought critically.

Out loud, she said:

“I trust the staff at Beacon more than I trust Atlesian field medics.”

She frowned up at him.

“And you were limping when we left the battlefield.” she added. “Don’t deny it, Oz.”

She didn’t mention that he’d nearly fallen down every time he’d tried to walk and, in the end, that he’d had to lean on her in order to move anywhere at all. The thought of the headmaster being rendered so unsteady, almost fragile, troubled her enough; she had no desire to remind him of it. Ozpin opened his eyes. His dark amber orbs, which had only hours before been bright with restless obstinacy, held a subdued look in them.

“I won’t. And to soothe you, beloved,” he said, “I’ll go to the infirmary.”

Glynda smiled.

“Good,”

“But only” he added, smirking, “if you’ll join me.”

His wife sighed. Somehow, she’d known that had been coming. It only figured he would make her suffer, so to speak, with him (though in truth she wouldn’t have it any other way).

“First, we check on the children.” she said.

He smiled.

“Of course.”

Of all the things they’d missed while away, they’d longed for them the most, as any parents would. For a while the two were silent, thinking about them. Then Glynda’s face turned melancholy.

“I don’t want them to see us like this.” she said, so quiet Ozpin almost hadn’t heard her.

He frowned, understanding why she wanted that. Oscar, Ria and Tia had never seen them wounded before. To see them as they were now, not only injured, but grievously so, would be nothing if not a great shock. Yet it was one they’d have to face eventually, and to delay it seemed less than worthwhile when all was said and done.

“All children have to learn that their parents are not invincible.” he said softly to Glynda.

“But it’s not an easy lesson already.” she answered. “Nor a very pleasant one.”

Ozpin nodded. Glynda would know better than anyone how hard a lesson of your own parents’ vulnerability could be. He glanced back at her. Her eyes were downcast and heavy with sadness, no doubt from memories being stirred up from their resting places where she’d tried so hard to keep them.

“I don’t want to upset them.” she whispered.

“Neither do I.” Ozpin assured, putting an arm around her, gently so as not to jostle her sling.

When her expression still didn’t lighten, he added:

“If we’re in luck, Port and Oobleck will have already gotten them to bed long before now. It is very much past their bedtime as I recall.”

This made Glynda smile.

“If we’re in luck,” she said fondly, “they won’t have let them run amuck while we were gone.”

Ozpin chuckled.

“I’m not sure even we are that lucky.” he said, and they both shared a quiet laugh.

At that moment, they heard the voice of the pilot from the bridge:

“Alright, professors, we’re here. So, if you’re falling asleep back there, I’d suggest you start waking up, because we’ll be pretty landing soon.”

Glynda felt her heart flutter in her chest like a bird’s. She looked up towards one of the cargo hold’s small windows and, indeed, she could see that they were starting to descend. They were so close now, so close to really and truly being back now that a rush of bubbling excitement was sent shooting through her veins, making her feel wide awake. She sat up, with only a little difficulty thanks to her arm, and was quickly on her feet. Ozpin was not quite a quick, though, and had to lean against the wall behind him to lift himself shakily up. However, as soon as he put weight on his bad leg, he nearly crumpled back to the floor, a hiss of pain escaping between his teeth, and might’ve fallen completely if Glynda hadn’t caught him. She stared at him fearfully with wide jade green eyes, and only let out her breath once he met her gaze.

“Sorry,” he murmured, but she shook her head.

He had nothing to apologize for, especially not here and not now.

“Let me help you.” she pleaded softly.

He did and, with him draping an arm on her shoulder and grasping his cane tightly, the two walked over to the rear door. As he used his cane to aid in his movement, Ozpin let out a small self-deprecating chuckle.

“It seems I might actually have a use for this cane outside of battle after all.” he said.

They held onto each other as the ship came to a gentle stop, thanked the pilot once again, then stepped out. The ship took off barely a few moments later, leaving a small breeze in its wake. The professors waited until it was out of sight, then turned to look up at the school. What a sight for sore it was: the courtyard lined with its trees and light-poles, lit now with a soft green glow and shining the pathway to the school like small stars, leading to the familiar peaked towers, black against the midnight sky.

“I forgot how beautiful it is.” Ozpin murmured.

Glynda turned to him. He was staring at the tower with all the longing of the homesick finally returning to their abode. She smiled.

“Well, now you have a reminder.” she said.

Ozpin smiled at her, and her own widened at the joy in his face.

“Welcome home.” Glynda whispered, reaching up just enough to brush her lips to his cheek.

The small peck made a light blush blossom on Ozpin’s face, though it was too difficult to see in the dark.

“It’s good to be home.”


End file.
